


to keep you looking at me

by liesmith



Category: NoPixel, no pixel
Genre: Gift Fic, M/M, That's it, grumpy snobby british boy misses southern belle blond bf and acts out, that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liesmith/pseuds/liesmith
Summary: it was only a weekoraj's bitchy, but this is kind of annoying
Relationships: AJ Hunter/Bobby Smith
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	to keep you looking at me

Something’s wrong.

Bobby sits in his office, leaning back in his desk chair as AJ just stares at him, hands in his pockets to his jacket. His expression is hard, annoyed at something, and Bobby has the inkling that annoyance is aimed at _him_. But for what? He left for a week back to Texas, AJ knew this, they talked at length about it, but somehow Bobby is still the bad guy for leaving, if he had to guess why AJ’s so pissed.

“Do you know why I called you in here?”

AJ shrugs.

“Are you going to talk?”

Another shrug.

“Five strike points.”

“What the fuck for?” AJ breaks his silence at that, head cocked to the side, “because I’m not sucking your dick like everyone else is now that you’re back, Bobby? Woohoo, chief’s back, but it doesn’t matter anyways because you don’t do anything anyways when you are here.”

Bobby’s eyebrow arches. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“Entertain me, Hunter. 10-9.”

“Fuck off.”

Bobby just pinches the bridge of his nose, eye closing. “AJ, what is wrong with you?”

“Can I get back to doing my job, Chief?”

“... Fine. You’re still five strike points richer then before.”

“Go fuck yourself,” And AJ accompanies his snark with a door slam, and Bobby just narrows his eye at the wood, the tiny curtain rattling against the glass. Well, whatever the hell AJ’s problem was, Bobby could ignore it. The world didn’t revolve around some snobby little British boy, and Bobby had shit he had to get done.

Still… he couldn’t deny the ache in his chest over said snobby little British boy with his clear hard-on for being an asshole right now, nor could Bobby ignore the pulse at the base of his skull of an oncoming headache from the same source of his ache. Today was going to be a long, long day.

* * *

Bobby can’t fucking take it anymore.

AJ won’t respond to him in person, over the radio, through text messages, _nothing_. It’s grinding on his nerves and he shouldn’t let the brunet get the best of him, but it’s kind of fucked up that Bobby leaves for a week, misses his boyfriend, and he’s getting treated like nothing more than a pest, something tugging at your mind but not enough to distract, just enough to be obnoxious.

He sure hopes he’s being as obnoxious as possible.

After a cleared jewelry store, Bobby stays behind while AJ fiddles with the security system, arms crossed over his chest, leaning back against his cruiser. He waits a moment before he clears his throat, head cocked.

“Hunter.”

“Oh, you’re still here,” AJ murmurs, not bothering to look at Bobby as he flips the panel up for the security system, “seems about right. Still doing nothing.”

“We’re going to MRPD. Now.”

“Rather not,” AJ finally turns to look at him, arms crossing over his own chest, and Bobby wonders if he’s being made fun of, “I’m going to go join the chase, and you’re gonna go… I don’t know. Chainsmoke in your office or something.”

“MRPD or you’re suspended for a week.”

“Big balls there, Bobby.”

“Try me,” Bobby raises an eyebrow, keeping his gaze steady with AJ’s, “get in your car and follow me back to MRPD, like a good boy.”

“Go fuck yourself,” But Bobby considers it a win, because AJ is climbing into his cruiser, lights off, and takes the turn towards MRPD. The blond exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, taking a moment to let the anxiety ease out of him before climbing into his own cruiser, flicking the lights off and starting towards the department himself.

He pulls neatly into a parking spot and cuts the engine, looking towards the front steps. AJ is sitting on the wall, leaning back on a hand as the other is playing with his phone, legs crossed at the ankle. Bobby takes the moment to just admire through his windshield, arms crossed over his steering wheel as he rests his chin on it. He had _really_ missed AJ, so it was kind of a buzz kill he was acting like a toddler who didn’t get his way. Bobby is quiet for a moment, just enjoying the view, before his phone buzzes in the seat besides him. He leans back to grab it, turning it over and looking at the text sent to him.

_Stop staring. It’s rude, bitch._

Bobby cracks a smile, looking back out his windshield at AJ, but the brunet just looks annoyed. Oh well. He sighs and climbs out of his car, locking it and tucking the keys away in his pant’s pocket, walking over to AJ and standing between his legs, a hand reaching up to settle on his knee, before Bobby creeps it up to his inner thigh. They’re alone so Bobby takes advantage of it, his other hand reaching up to just sit at AJ’s belt, thumb pressing against the metal.

“What the fuck are you doing, Bobby?”

The words confuse him. Bobby hesitates and starts to pull away, but the heel of AJ’s boots bang between his shoulder blades, trapping him for now against the wall. The blond clears his throat, tilting his head up at AJ, brows furrowed.

“Thought you wanted some-”

“Shut up. Je _sus_ , Bobby, just shut the fuck up. Go downstairs to the interrogation room.”

The legs around him loosen and drop and Bobby steps back, a small frown on his face. The tone isn’t very kind, and the asshole in him wants to fight it back, but maybe AJ wants to make it up to him.

But Bobby’s probably wishful thinking at that.

He’s careful, like a mouse being stalked by a lazy, yet efficient cat, climbing the steps to MRPD and stepping into the lobby. He feels strange, sneaking past the break room, their dispatch making coffee inside as he pushes past the double doors down to their processing area. He hesitates at the top, trying to see through the windows if AJ has stepped inside yet, but he figures it won’t matter in a few minutes. Bobby takes the steps quickly, pushing into the narrow hallway, fingers dancing along the wall before they drop to the door handle to their interrogation room.

Nerves are starting to get the best of him but yet Bobby persists, opening the door and looking around. Still kind of a shitty small room, like it always had been. He waits a moment, just listening to the flicker of fluorescent bulbs before he moves to sit on the table in an attempt to be alluring, leg crossed over the other as he leans back on his hands, waiting for AJ.

It must only be five minutes, maybe a little more, but it feels like eternity until the door opens and AJ steps in, closing the door behind him with his foot. He looks Bobby over, rolling his eyes as he steps closer, grabbing the set of handcuffs at his belt. He says nothing as he leans into Bobby, pressing him down into the table and taking one wrist, sliding the cuffs around it, and then clasping it to one of the shackles. Bobby tilts his head a little, heart pounding a bit in his chest. What was AJ trying to accomplish with this? He stays quiet as his other hand is cuffed to the remaining shackle, managing to lean up and kiss AJ’s jaw, humming with appreciation as a hand slides into his hair before it turns into a sharp gasp as AJ pulls Bobby’s head back, pulling back for a moment to look down at him with furrowed brows.

“Excuse you?”

“E-Excuse me?”

“Didn’t say you could do that.”

“Sorry,” Bobby’s tone changes quickly, his submission kicking into high gear, “I’ll be good.”

AJ doesn’t say anything and instead knocks Bobby’s knees open with his thigh, standing behind them as hands trail down Bobby’s shirt, fingers rucking up the white shirt, pulling it out from being neatly tucked into his slacks. His hands creep up beneath it next, cold fingertips against his warm skin making goosebumps rise along his arms, Bobby exhaling out softly. He wants to ask how to make AJ happy while he’s cuffed like this, but he figures AJ doing what he wants will be good enough.

Still, he’s an idiot, and Bobby likes to hear himself talk.

“Y-You like me again?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Nails press into his skin and AJ looks up at him, a bratty glare aimed at Bobby, “talk when spoken too.”

Bobby feels the heat pool between his legs. “... Yes, sir.”

AJ's hands roam to Bobby's chest, squishing the just soft enough skin together, fingers pressing into his chest before they find a nipple, the pad of AJ's thumb smoothing over the nub before rubbing in tight circles, his other hand finally creeping back lower, fingertips just barely skimming Bobby's ribs as his hand settles at Bobby's belt, idly tugging at the leather. The hand at his chest alternates pinching and rubbing, teasing both nubs to hardness as Bobby tries his best not to squirm too much, face flushed and chest rising with uneven breaths, trying to keep even those quiet.

AJ pulls away momentarily, hand sliding out from under Bobby's shirt as he stands there, hands settled at the blond's waist as he just merely inspects Bobby like he's just a piece of meat, but then again, he just is at this point, and he's content at that. It surprises him briefly when AJ climbs onto the table, straddling Bobby's chest, knees pressing against the top of his ribcage. Bobby watches, maybe too eagerly, as AJ's hands go to his belt. The room is silent except for Bobby's breathing as he watches hands flick his belt open, pop his button and undo his zipper. Bobby can't stop the whimper that comes out as AJ's presented to him, a hand around his base and hard, the tip just beading with precum. Bobby swallows hard, wondering if begging for it will give it to him faster, but he doesn't have to think about it as a hand slides into his hair, and AJ's hips tilt forward. Bobby's lips part with ease, tongue flicking out to taste AJ, and the brunet sighs above him. Bobby takes it as the go ahead, giving another lick before his lips wrap around AJ's tip, sucking as his tongue presses flat against the spot right beneath his head, eyes lidding. Another sigh escapes the brunet above him before he shifts his weight, the hand leaving Bobby's hair to join the other on the wall as AJ kneels straighter and Bobby catches on, jaw slacking as the cock slides further into his mouth, the head pressing against the back of his throat.

Bobby exhales through his nose, pulling just a little at his restraints. It's cruel he can't grab AJ's hips, dig his fingers into his boyfriend's ass for any sort of leverage as the brunet starts slowly fucking into his mouth. AJ's face is pressed against his arm, jacket sleeve scrunched, his eyes closed in concentration as the line of his brow furrows as his hips roll, and Bobby just feels drunk looking up at him through his lashes. He's just so fucking pretty and it makes Bobby ache, pressing his own thighs together as if would even help relieve the trapped cock between his own legs. Above him AJ's picking up his thrusts, hips rolling with need, and Bobby whines around him, remembering he has a task at hand, but he's sure even without his soft sucks, his tongue lapping at any bit of AJ he can get, the brunet is going to get off with or without Bobby's help. Still, he can speed the process up, Bobby's selfish needs settling into his mind.

As AJ thrusts in, Bobby purrs, and he gets a soft cry, the tiniest 'fuuhck' to escape AJ's mouth due to the vibrations. Makes Bobby feel a little smug, but it's cut short as AJ's hips press flush to his mouth and Bobby gags for a second, the feeling of his throat making AJ shudder as his hips rock, just barely pulling out to push back in, bottom lip pulled just slightly between his teeth. Under him, Bobby's eye is closed tightly, hands curled into tight fists as he swallows around AJ reflexively, heat pooled in his belly as he's used like a toy for AJ to get off with.

Bobby's only warning is how tense AJ gets before the brunet is spurting down his throat and Bobby trembles, swallowing it down the best he can. It takes a moment before AJ slides out of his mouth slowly, eyes lid as he looks down at the mess he's made of Bobby, softening tip just sitting against his wet and bruised lips.

Bobby kisses it softly, trying to still be good despite the rawness he feels in his throat. He was good, so surely he'll get his… right? Instead, AJ is quiet as he's climbing off the table, tucking himself away and redoing his belt. He pushes Bobby's thighs apart, thumb pressed into his inner thighs, inspecting the trapped hard on in his pants before AJ hums softly.

"See you, Chief. I hope nobody needs this room," AJ sighs a little dramatically, giving Bobby a smile, "my shifts over in a few hours. I'll be back, okay?"

"H-Hunter," Bobby panics, voice sore as he looks at the retreating brunet's back, "A-AJ, you can't leave me here…!"

AJ waves before the door clicks quiet behind him and Bobby can only stare at it, slack jaw as it dawns on him that yes, AJ really _is_ going to leave him here.

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> bj nation i'll carry you on my back like atlas
> 
> 4 s & z who yell at me and bully constantly
> 
> normansbones @ twitter, or you can come say hi on our discord!


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